Lesson Plans
by Khilari
Summary: Barbie is planning to teach a gender studies class at Sunnyside. Having her planning interrupted isn't exactly welcome, but she may find it provides a new perspective.


In the Butterfly room, in an awkwardly shaped space where two cupboards didn't quite abut, Barbie had her private office. The dream house was all very well, but playtime made it rather too public and Barbie had opted out of playtime today in favour of reading several sheets of computer printout. She was resting on her stomach on top of it, sliding herself backwards as she read until she was off the bottom of the page when she needed to turn it over. This was happening at an increasing rate as she got into what she was reading, so the sound of someone knocking on one of the cupboards and jolting her out of her thoughts wasn't welcome. She took a moment to brush her hair out of her face and compose a smile before answering. 'Come in.'

Woody stepped around the cupboard, stopping awkwardly as he tried to avoid stepping on the computer printout. 'Hey, Barbie. How are things going?'

'Everything's just great,' said Barbie cheerfully. She picked up her papers and propped them against the wall. 'Would you like a seat?'

'Thanks. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything?'

Back in Molly's room Barbie had known Woody vaguely as the leader of Andy's toys and also as the kind of guy who wouldn't make a fuss about being asked to look for a lost accessory. Then, when all hope had seemed lost, he'd shown himself to be the kind of leader who would come back for his people and was capable of coming up with a plan for springing them. Now he was Bonnie's toy, but on those occasions when she brought him in he liked to check in with Barbie. Sunnyside wasn't his problem, but he seemed to think it was and Barbie was happy to have a second opinion. Or rather a third one, after Ken. Somehow she didn't think he'd be much help with her current plans, though.

'I'm going to be running a class on gender studies. This is research,' she said. 'I can do it later.'

Woody looked uncertainly at the several sheets of paper sliding down the wall. 'I didn't know it was so complicated. Don't most people figure that stuff out for themselves?'

'What stuff?' Barbie asked sweetly, rather suspecting they weren't on the same page here.

'What gender they are.'

'Do you have any idea what gender studies actually are?'

'Um, no?'

'It's about masculinity and femininity as social constructs, rather than intrinsic to…' Barbie paused, even bright toys seldom had the best vocabularies. 'People should be allowed to do things they want to do whether or not those things are considered for girls or boys.'

'So this is about people picking on Ken? I thought it was going to be about plushies.'

'Partly, yes,' admitted Barbie. 'He's a wonderful person, Woody.' She hated people making Ken feel bad about himself. Then she realised that suddenly she was the one who didn't know what they were talking about. 'Wait, what about plushies?'

'Oh, you know,' said Woody, looking a little embarrassed. 'Some of them aren't manufactured with a gender in mind so they have to figure it out later. I didn't think they'd want a class on it.'

The term "intersex" had come up in Barbie's reading and she hadn't paid it much attention at the time. Biological matters didn't seem that relevant to toys. But then she'd been thinking about toys like her and Ken, humanoid toys. It occurred to her now that gender among other types of toy might have its own, different, complications.

'So how do they figure it out?' she asked.

'I think they go with what their owner picks for them, usually,' said Woody, looking increasingly uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. 'It makes things easier.'

'So what happens if they change owners and their new owner has different ideas?'

'I don't know. Andy never had that many plushies, and all of them were new.'

Barbie looked at her sheets of printout which suddenly seemed very human oriented. Sunnyside was full of second hand toys. 'I'll have to do my own research then.'

Woody ran his hand over his hair, pushing his hat over one ear. 'Um, Barbie? You can't just go around asking about this. Most toys don't like to talk about it.'

'So how did you hear about it?'

He shrugged. 'You're the leader of Sunnyside now. Don't you find that sooner or later you hear everything?'

Barbie frowned, she wasn't going to wait to start her class until gossip had time to filter up to her. The bell rang for the end of recess, startling both of them, and Woody jumped to his feet. 'Bonnie's going to be looking for me. Got to go,' he said.

'Okay, 'bye now,' said Barbie. 'And thank you, you've been very helpful.'

Woody looked back at her, clearly concerned about what she was planning and wanting to warn her not to upset anyone. But the sound of children approaching forestalled anything he might have said. Once he was gone Barbie lifted her printout back to the floor and grabbed a few pens from a crack between the cupboards. Red for anything that would also be relevant to toys, blue for anything that wouldn't. It would work as a starting point at least.

X

_Gender in toys intersects with gender in humans in that toys are often designed for one gender or another. Toys designed for younger children are frequently unisex while toys for older children become more designed for one gender. In many toys this is reflected in the gender of the toy themselves with male action figures marketed to boys while female dolls are made for girls. Exceptions can be found in franchises where male and female characters interact on the show itself, or in whatever form of canon the franchise has, and therefore are marketed to a single demographic._

Barbie stopped writing on the back of the printout and began to twirl her pen thoughtfully between her palms, making a blot on the paper. She wondered how different boys' games were from girls' games. Of course she could observe, Sunnyside had plenty of children of both genders, but she was unlikely to ever be played with by a boy herself. She could ask other toys, perhaps, but she was their leader and they were fairly new to her. Woody had been right, she couldn't just go around asking people personal questions.

'Hey, Barbie. How are you doing?' asked Ken, poking his head into the office.

'Ken!' Barbie squealed, jumping up and hugging him. 'How was playtime?'

'I missed you, babe.'

'Sorry, but I had to work on my notes. I think I'm figuring things out though.'

'Do you really think this is going to help?' asked Ken, looking at Barbie's neat handwriting.

'I really hope so, you deserve so much better than the way they treat you,' she said, resting her head against his shoulder. 'And I think a gender studies class could be really interesting anyway. Especially because we really don't have sex.'

'Wha-what?' Ken sputtered, his hand catching in her hair where he'd been stroking it.

'I mean physically,' said Barbie. 'Because of how we're made.'

'Well, yes. I, uh, didn't know it bo-'

'We start with secondary sexual characteristics rather than primary and we don't have chromosomes,' continued Barbie. 'So for us gender is _entirely_ socially constructed without the basis of physical sexes.'

'Oh. Right, I get it now.' Ken stepped back and took her hand. 'If you're finished with work for the day, I could make you dinner?'

And this was a game they played because they didn't need to eat but they had a nice dinner service and an array of beautiful evening wear. Because there was real caring behind the pretence of him making her food. Afterwards in bed there would be real desire and real love and half-pretended sex, and Barbie wondered for the first time why they did these things. Not why she did them, or why she chose Ken to do them with, but why a toy could feel and want them. This had started with wanting people to appreciate Ken and progressed to wondering about gender. But once you started asking questions, was there anywhere you could stop?

'Hey, Barbie? It feels like you're miles away,' said Ken.

'Sorry,' she said, and maybe questions should be asked but they didn't need to be asked right _now_. 'I'd love you to make me dinner. You're a great cook.'

They walked to the dream house hand in hand.


End file.
